


Fighting a Hurricane

by what_a_dork_fish



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: ABO, Alternate Universe - College/University, Hartwin, M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-27 03:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6267493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/what_a_dork_fish/pseuds/what_a_dork_fish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another prompt from another lovely anon: alpha Harry and omega Eggsy have been friends since childhood, and now they've made it into a prestigious university together, and, of course, it's impossible for them to admit that they... well, you know where this is going.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Introduction

“It’s like fighting a hurricane, or an earthquake, or a volcano. The hurricane doesn’t care how much judo you know. The earthquake is stronger than any punch or kick. And you’ll burn sooner or later if you fight a volcano. You just can’t do it. You can’t fight love.”

~~~\0/~~~

Twilight was dimming the sky, but the lights in the gym still blazed. Standing out in the hall, one could hear grunts of exertion, gasps of pain, and bantering taunts.

“Ha! You call that a block? C’mon, get your hands up!”

Harry sighed and slammed his fist into Eggsy’s gut while the other was still gloating. Eggsy got him in the jaw, so hard he saw sparks, but a leg-sweep sent him down—except Eggsy’s hands were clutching his shirt, and with the help of a well-placed foot, Eggsy flipped Harry over him so he slammed on his back. Before he could catch his breath, Eggsy rolled up onto his knees and pinned Harry’s shoulders with his hands, grinning upside down at his sparring partner.

“I win again!” Eggsy crowed.

“I let you have that win,” Harry informed him archly, but his being so out of breath ruined the effect.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” Eggsy leapt to his feet and pulled Harry up. They were both bruised and aching and sweating after three hours working together, but it had been a good match. They always ended their workout sessions with a fight; it kept them sharp, learning new things from each other and practicing old. There wasn’t much need for it these days, but it was habit, a routine, and right now, they both needed routines.

Exams were coming.

But they did not talk about exams as they strode (or hobbled, to be more precise) to the locker room to rinse and change clothes. They spoke of techniques (Eggsy was currently quite taken with kickboxing, and Harry was the best bare-knuckle brawler on campus), their parents, and the dreaded Family Luncheons; not that Eggsy dreaded his mum and sister, but it was almost certain his stepdad would come along, and Harry could not stand his own mother and father.

“Would you like to exchange?” Harry asked wearily as they both stripped off their workout clothes.

“No,” Eggsy answered, shuffling to the showers. They were all sectioned off with partitions like the toilets, with curtains as well; not that it mattered to Harry and Eggsy. What was showering to friends who had swum and bathed together from toddlerhood to puberty? But at least they could still hear each other. “Not for a million pounds would I give you mum and Dais for your parents.”

“Are you sure?” Harry stepped into the cubicle beside Eggsy and turned the water to as hot as possible, which wasn’t very. “I can take care of your stepfather for you.”

Eggsy smiled slightly. How like Harry, to offer such a thing. “I’ll just deal with him. It’s been too long since I’ve seen Daisy.”

“True.”

“Do you miss _your_ brothers?”

“No. I don’t miss any of my family, to be frank.”

But there was a faint edge to his voice, a hardness, that told Eggsy that he was most definitely lying. He would not ask again. Well—he might. Later, though.

To change the subject, Harry asked suddenly, “Are you ready for the exams?”

Eggsy grimaced. “No,” he replied gloomily. “Not at all. Will you help me with History?”

Harry turned off the water and grabbed his towel. “Only if you help me with physics.”

“Oh, definitely!”

~~~\0/~~~

The dorms were co-ed, but split strictly between the three types, omega, beta, and alpha. Harry was in alpha, of course; and Eggsy was his roommate. Officially it was because there was no room in the omega dorms—unofficially, Eggsy had just put all his things with Harry’s when they arrived and no one had had the courage to try and separate them after classes started. They came as a pair, and anyone who complained was dealt with swiftly and quietly.

There were rumors about them, of course. Eggsy laughed them off. Harry’s mouth would tighten and his eyes spark and his hands clench into fists, and the person who’d confronted him would back away with their eyes down, murmuring apologies.

Various folk came to say hello once it was known that they were back from practicing, interrupting their studying. Eggsy tried to be nice, but it got irritating quickly. Harry didn’t even bother being nice. They had many friends, yes, but surely not this many?

Eventually, the stream of visitors lessened, as most people went to bed or to their own books. Harry and Eggsy gave up studying for the evening. Eggsy fetched out his ceiling-projector as Harry unrolled their sleeping bags. Eggsy didn’t notice that Harry positioned the sleeping bags a little closer than usual; Harry didn’t notice that Eggsy was very careful to close and lock the door before turning on the projector.

This was something they’d done since childhood. They lay on the floor together, the projector between them sending stars spinning slowly across the cream ceiling, and made up new constellations. It was fun, and calming. They both needed calm. As they traced shapes and gave names and stories to the stars wheeling above, muscles loosened, tension faded, headaches and tempers eased. After an hour, they were both smiling again.

And then, as Eggsy pointed to a formation of four ‘stars’ and proclaimed, “Those are the Four Fools, remember that night?”, the door swung open.

Both of them popped upright, almost oversetting the projector. In the doorway, Lin was tucking his lockpicks back in his pocket and Roxy was leaning on the frame, arms crossed over her chest.

“This looks cozy, and not at all like studying,” Roxy commented, raising an eyebrow.

“We finished studying,” Eggsy lied, scowling back at her. “Did _you_ finish?”

“Yes,” answered Percy, popping up in the open space between Lin and Roxy. “All four of us. But we need help.”

“Especially Gary’s,” Lance chimed in, stepping up behind Percy, and sliding past the three to plop down in Harry’s desk-chair. He had a thick packet of papers in his hands, most in folders, some just paperclipped, the others loose. “Harry, I am completely stumped on the Literature worksheets.”

“Eggsy, help me out and look this over?” Roxy held up her own, much thinner handful of papers.

Percy elbowed Lin, who sighed and queried, “Will either of you let us test our latest project on you?”

Harry’s mouth tightened, but he said nothing. Eggsy sighed too and shut off the projector, getting to his feet and shifting his books and notes and pencils so he and Roxy could sit side by side on his bed. “Yeah, fine. One of you turn on the lights, yeah?”

Roxy’s work on the physics homework was immaculate, as always. Eggsy suspected she’d just come to keep him company, as the other young men crowded around Harry, Lance to ask about the essay that was due (which he really did need help on), Percy and Lin to test their prototype pair of tortoiseshell glasses that, so far, were simple communicators with the tiniest of cameras that could feed directly to the screen on Lin’s favorite clipboard. Eggsy thought Harry looked very nice with glasses on.

Roxy coughed slightly. Eggsy looked back down, feeling his cheeks grow just a little warm.

Kingsman University offered hundreds of courses, and all of them were of superior quality. Lin was in Computer Technologies, on a fast-track for military engineering; Percy was a tinkerer, but he loved biology—specifically, human biology, and how best to meddle with it; Lance preferred to meddle with things like words and codes; and Roxy was dead-set on becoming a diplomat. Harry was doing a little of everything; how he had time to even sleep was anyone’s guess.

And Eggsy… drifted. After that time in the Marines, he didn’t know what he wanted. To help people, that, he knew; he wanted to help, and protect. But he also wanted…

No. That was too typical, too… too omega of him. He didn’t like that want. So he buried it under a rock made of confusion and sat on it, metaphorically.

But he liked maths, and physics, and he’d been thinking of studying up for astrophysics. Perhaps he’d go for that. There weren’t many jobs in that field that he knew of, but Kingsman was famous for all their students being employed. Maybe he could get help from the school.

Or maybe not. He was only there because Harry’s parents had vouched for him, and his father had gotten in through the Marines. But then there had been the accident, and—

“Eggsy?”

“Hm?” He blinked and realized he’d been staring at the floor, thinking, when everyone was getting ready to return to their rooms. “Oh. Sorry.”

Everyone gave him pondering looks, but Roxy patted his shoulder, Lance thumped him on the back, Lin and Percy continued arguing over which frequency would be best for transmitted signals from their glasses, and Harry shut the door firmly behind them all.

A moment of silence. Then Harry asked softly, “Your father again?”

“Yeah,” Eggsy mumbled.

“Let’s count the stars.”

So they got into their sleeping bags and counted the stars on the ceiling. Eggsy fell asleep and did not dream.

~~~\0/~~~

The Family Lunches came right before exams, and Eggsy became so anxious he went completely calm. Harry knew this tactic of old, and did his best to be the perfect counterpoint, to be as soothing and stress-relieving as possible. Trying to take care of Eggsy without letting Eggsy know he was being taken care of was quite a task. It left Harry without the energy to also be anxious.

Their friends didn’t know. They exclaimed at how well Eggsy was handling things, and didn’t act any differently, constantly talking about exams and how they were sure they would fail. This only made Eggsy even more nervous. And on the day of the Family Lunch, Harry found him hiding in the tub in the bathroom at seven in the morning, playing Angry Birds on his phone.

Harry knelt on the floor and reached over to gently take the phone from Eggsy. “You’ll do fine,” he murmured as Eggsy continued to stare at his hands. “You’ve gone through worse. Come on. Get up and shower. You’ll feel better.”

Coaxing and nudging, Harry got Eggsy to stand and step out of the tub. With that hurdle cleared, Eggsy took a deep breath, nodded, and collected clean clothing. Harry almost offered to help him—perhaps scrub his back for him, maybe help with drying off—but he bit the inside of his cheek and remained silent.

Meanwhile, Eggsy wished dully he had the courage to ask Harry to come keep him company, so he wouldn’t fall back into a funk. But he wished that so often that it was easy to push away again.

A shower did help, though. He scrubbed every inch and every crevice, and when he was done he stood in the spray of hot water from a moment and just let his mind wander. It went straight to the memory of the last time he and his stepfather had met, and the fallout it had caused. Neither of them were allowed in that restaurant anymore. And it had hurt mum so much. And now Daisy was old enough to be out and about and sit up on her own… he couldn’t let this be ruined, for either of them.

Harry waited patiently, choosing his own outfit with care. Mother did not approve of him rooming with commoners, never mind that it was the same commoner who’d been under her influence for nearly twenty years; Harry had to prove he hadn’t lost an ounce of class. So he chose the bespoke suit Father had had made for him just a few weeks ago, to please both parents, and made sure his umbrella was clean and primed. It was another of Lin’s inventions, one that had earned him a grant from the army; he called it the Rainmaker, because Lin was just that strange, and Harry had quietly bought the prototype when Lin had got it up to scratch. Harry knew he wouldn’t need any of its special functions; but it did look like it was going to rain today.

When Harry and Eggsy were both clean, dry, and dressed, it was eleven o’clock. Both their appointments were at noon. Eggsy took a deep breath; Harry wiped his glasses clean. He only wore them on special occasions, though Eggsy had made many offhand comments about them looking very good on him.

Today was no exception. As soon as the glasses were firmly on Harry’s nose, Eggsy blurted, “Why don’t you wear them more?”

“Because I don’t like them,” Harry replied, a ritual answer. “I prefer my contact lenses.”

Eggsy looked like he wanted to say more, and Harry dearly wished he would, but there wasn’t time. Instead Eggsy straightened Harry’s tie, and Harry rearranged Eggsy’s collar, and then they left.

They parted ways just outside the dormitory. Eggsy went to a local pub, and Harry approached the fanciest, most expensive restaurant within walking distance. Nothing else would do for Mother and Father, never mind that they both hated French food.

Harry’s parents were already seated when he walked in; he murmured that he was expected by the Harts and the waiter led the way quietly, stopping a little distance from the table. Harry thanked him and walked the rest of the way alone. He kissed Mother’s hand and shook Father’s. He sat at Father’s nod and arranged himself properly. He waited for the usual bombardment of lectures.

None were forthcoming. Instead, Mother asked, “How have you been, these past two weeks?”

“Ah… fairly well. We’re stressed about exams, but we’re as ready as we can be.”

“We?” Father queried, raising an eyebrow.

Harry did not blush, but he did feel his expression turn chagrined. “My apologies. I am stressed but prepared, as are my friends.”

“Hmm.” But neither Mother nor Father made further comment. Instead they asked when exams were, and if he’d been studying properly, and how he’d been fitting in his physical training. He answered their questions honestly and calmly, though he had to keep catching himself before he could even begin to speak of Eggsy. If he started, he wasn’t sure he could stop.

And then suddenly, as the second course arrived and Harry took a sip of his wine, Mother asked, “Have you found a nice omega to settle down with yet? Or must we die before we see our first grandchild?”

Harry choked, spat, set down his glass quickly, and answered her as calmly as before. “I haven’t met anyone so far that interests me. I shall keep looking, though.”

“What about that boy you’re rooming with? Gareth, or Greg?” Father asked casually.

Harry could not control it. His cheeks and ears went red as a beet, though his voice remained level. “His name is Gary, Father. And we are _friends_.”

“Oh, _that_ omega.” Mother wrinkled her nose, then sighed. “Yes, I supposed he’d be alright. Decent manners for a commoner.”

“No—Mother, I do not care for him in that manner,” Harry insisted, feeling the blush strengthen and spread. “And he’d never have me, even if I did want him. It’s not him.”

But Mother was smiling slyly, and Father was chortling, and Harry began to feel slightly faint and very angry. “Don’t count on that,” Father replied mysteriously, and changed the subject.

Across town, Eggsy was having a similar discussion.

“When are you thinking of children?” mum asked reasonably.

Eggsy blushed a little. He didn’t like discussing this subject in public. Thank god Dean had decided not to show up. “Um… after I finish school. I wanna have everything sorted and stable before I think of kids.” Also the thought of giving birth terrified him. Didn’t it hurt like hell? And it must be very embarrassing, to have a doctor and nurses staring when you’re trying to push out a baby. Eggsy was sure he’d get stagefright.

“Have you thought of an alpha?”

“N-no.” He’d dreamed of one, though. Just last night he’d thought to himself he wouldn’t mind making a child with… no, he didn’t dare even think the name.

“What about that boy you used to play with when you were little? Isn’t he an alpha?”

Eggsy’s head snapped up, and he stared at his mum with such an expression of shock and horror that mum actually laughed, though it was small and quiet.

“Oh my, have I guessed already?” she asked cheerfully.

“No! No, because—because I don’t like him like that! He’s just my friend, we’ve been friends since we were little—I’d never—“ Eggsy sputtered, and had to stop, because he was crimson with embarrassment and unable to continue speaking without swearing or shouting. Or both.

Mum reached across the table and patted his hand. “It’s alright, babe. I’m sorry I brought it up. I know you’re friends. So how is football going?”

Eggsy grabbed the new subject gratefully, and went on at far too much length about how the coach was fair but a dick, and his teammates were all dicks, and the opponents were all dicks—but he refused to mention practicing with Harry, who was most certainly not at all a dick. He was too encouraging and wonderful to be with. Wonderful to be with…

~~~\0/~~~

Later that day, the Harts took their accountant out for dinner, and the three of them discussed their children.

“It’s far too obvious,” Abagail Hart declared, sipping her claret. “It’s _been_ obvious since they were in year ten.”

“Harry does not understand his own emotions, let alone anyone else’s,” Henry Hart snorted.

“I don’t think that’s true,” Michelle Baker commented, fiddling with her glass. “From what Eggsy tells me, they’ve both grown, emotionally. They’re just too insecure to believe it’s possible for either to love the other.”

The Harts paused for a moment, digesting her words. Finally, Abagail sighed and admitted, “Harry _does_ seem more sensitive to the feelings of others. He’s certainly grown since the beginning of the year. I just hope he figures this out, and soon. It’s painful to watch.”

Michelle nodded gloomily and Henry grimaced. “I feel sorry for the boys,” Henry confessed. “There’s nothing worse than being unable to acknowledge a bond.”

Back at the dormitories, a similar discussion was being held in Lin’s room. The company consisted of Lin, Roxy, Lance, and Percy, and they were all grim.

“This has gone on long enough,” Roxy announced firmly. “We need to get them to see it’s mutual, otherwise they’re both going to die alone and miserable.”

“Arrange a triangle?” Percy suggested. “Enlist one of their admirers? I hear there’s a group chasing Eggsy that’s getting bold.” He shrugged as the others glared. “It was just a suggestion.”

“Something cliché,” Lance commented thoughtfully. “Like locking them in a closet.”

“No, they’d just break out,” Percy argued.

“That’s why you reinforce the door,” Lance retorted.

“No, a cliché would work,” Roxy agreed. Percy gave her a hurt look. She raised an eyebrow at him before turning back to the circle at large. “They’d never see it coming. Nothing too strange, like handcuffing them together. Just something silly. And if they’re still unsure, we’ll just nudge them.” She looked at Lin, who sat back in his chair with his arms crossed over his favorite clipboard, pressed to his chest. “Come on, old man,” Roxy prodded. “Give us your opinion.”

“I am only two years older than you, thank you,” Lin replied archly. Then he looked thoughtful again, before saying with certainty, “The fair is coming to town next week. We pretend to go as a group, then abandon them together.”

“A forced date?” Lance clarified.

Lin nodded decisively.

Roxy began to smile. Percy gave an evil grin. Lance nodded too, eagerly. “So we’re agreed,” Roxy announced. “Alright, let’s start planning.”

~~~\0/~~~

Before the fair, though, there were exams.

With the Family Lunch out of the way, there was one less thing to dread, and so both Eggsy and Harry turned their full anxiety on exams. Never mind that they were best in their classes; one small slip and they could fail the entire course. Which was why, the day before exams, they decided to go out to the quadrangle for some football practice.

It was just supposed to be stress-relief, and quiet time spent together that wasn’t beating each other up or fretting silently in their rooms. Eggsy didn’t mean to kick the ball so hard it made Harry stumble. He didn’t mean to be so vicious.

But Harry’s returns were just as ferocious, actually making Eggsy’s legs and feet go slightly numb for a few seconds when he blocked them. Maybe they were both taking out their stress a little harder than necessary.

Usually they would have gathered a small crowd, but today it was only a group of four first-years. They were vaguely familiar; all beta, but the hangers-on kind, the ones that attach themselves to either alpha or omega because they believe the one to be superior to the other. Eggsy despised such people. Harry usually didn’t even seem to notice them. But today they looked very shy and longing, those four, watching Harry and Eggsy play alone.

Harry and Eggsy shared a pitying look, and the next time the ball hurtled Eggsy’s way, he stopped it at such an angle as to make it bounce up to the right height for him to catch it in his hands.

“Would you like to join us?” Harry asked the four first-years.

“Isn’t any fun with just two,” Eggsy added cheerfully, spinning the football on his fingertip.

One first-year blushed and inched behind another, who coughed a little. A third turned up their nose, and the fourth said haughtily, “Oh, we don’t play with _omega_. You’re all so weak and pathetic.”

The blusher gasped quietly, a little horrified. The cougher stared as if the speaker had gone mad. And the snubber simply nodded sedately.

The ball thumped into Eggsy’s palm. “Is that so.”

“Eggsy,” Harry murmured warningly, though he too was glaring daggers at the little bastard.

“No, Harry, I wanna play.” Eggsy grinned. It was not at all a nice grin. “I wanna teach these dickheads a lesson.”

Blusher and Cougher began to look uncertain. Speaker sneered and said, “We’ll beat your ass like a fuckin’ drum.”

Eggsy threw the ball on the ground. “Fucking try me.”

“Eggsy—“ Harry stopped, sighed, and stepped back, waving the four youngsters forward. “Alright, fine. I’ll be goalkeeper. Don’t hurt anyone,” he added, pointing sternly at Eggsy.

The smile Eggsy turned on him was too sweet. “I won’t. Well, I might hurt their pride.”

“Just kick the ball already!” snapped Speaker, throwing down their jacket and stomping forward.

Eggsy shrugged. “Your funeral.”

~~~\0/~~~

“Look at this. You split your knuckle again.”

Eggsy grinned as Harry cleaned the wound with disinfectant and placed a bandaid, smoothing it down with his thumbs. “It’s just a split, Harry. It’ll get better.”

Harry gave him a stern look, but continued to hold Eggsy’s hand. He told himself he wasn’t done inspecting it; he was lying again. “How many fights have you gotten into this semester?” he demanded. “Twelve?”

The grin faded, to make way for mulish stubbornness. “If they’d just shut up about it, I wouldn’t have to beat them up so much,” he retorted. “It’s not my fault I’m like this!”

“No, it isn’t.” Harry gave the captive hand a gentle squeeze and resisted the urge to kiss it. That would be too condescending at the moment. “And it’s rude of them to suggest there’s anything wrong with who you are. But you needn’t fight _every_ time they insult you.”

“Hmph.” But Eggsy said nothing, only squeezed back. There was a strange look on his face, a little possessive, a little sad, and very angry. He was always so angry. Come to think of it, he was only not angry around Harry. Which hurt, actually. It was like he was hiding how he really felt. Harry wanted to kiss his hands even more; wanted to make him happy and comfortable; wanted to make him—

Footsteps coming towards them. Harry let go and sat up; Eggsy drew his hand back and inspected the bandage. The nurse rounded the screen and frowned slightly to see that Eggsy was already taken care of. But really, she’d had to work on broken bones and the like; it had only made sense for Harry to tend to Eggsy for her.

“Well, let’s give you a last go-over just to be sure,” she sighed. “Pop out of that shirt and we’ll look for that broken rib Daniel is claiming he gave you.”

Eggsy snorted, but obeyed. Harry moved courteously out of the nurse’s way. This also happened to take him just a little further away from Eggsy. This was good in that it calmed the strange emotions he’d been feeling lately when he saw his friend’s bare skin; it was bad in that Eggsy actually flashed him a surprised, slightly hurt glance. Harry couldn’t explain. He didn’t dare.

The nurse barely glanced at Eggsy, and scoffed. “Huh! Overestimating weasel. You’re barely bruised.” She still gave him a swift inspection, and declared him ready to return to classes. Harry bore Eggsy away, repressing the urge to fuss, with great effort.

When they returned to their rooms, Eggsy flopped on his bed with a sigh, burying his face in his arms, and muttered, “I wish people would stop saying I’m one thing or another just ‘cause I’m omega.”

“People are narrow-minded idiots,” Harry replied bluntly, sitting on the edge of his own mattress. “There are a million types of people; more than a million. To say a third of them are _all_ pathetic and weak, and two-thirds are _never_ pathetic, is an extremely stupid thing to even think, let alone speak aloud. You’re not defined by stereotypes.”

Eggsy was silent for a long moment. Then he turned his head to look at Harry, a thoughtful, slightly sad look. “You should be a motivational speaker,” he said at last.

“You don’t look very motivated,” Harry pointed out, beginning to frown. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Eggsy hid his face again. “Everything’s fine.”


	2. Chapter 2

“They’re like a power couple, except they’re not together.”

“Well, of course they’re not together! They’ve basically been friends since birth, they’ve had plenty of time to fall in and out of love with each other.”

“Shhh, I think they can hear you guys.”

Harry tried his best not to hear the whispers. It was only one group of lowerclassmen. They would learn.

“Harry, look, they’ve got swings!”

Harry glanced at the tower of spinning swings and away. “Yes, I see,” he answered calmly. “Can we perhaps move on?”

“No, you’re going on the swings with me.” And with that, Eggsy grabbed his elbow and dragged him to the swings.

They weren’t supposed to be alone together. They’d arrived at the fair amongst a group that included: their four best friends; Gwen, Lance’s girlfriend and a hell of a shot; Cal, a key member of the student union; and Chester, head of the student union and often called “Arthur” out of spite because of his domineering ways and his dedication to the church. Slowly, though, the group had peeled away two by two, until Percy was the only one walking with Harry and Eggsy. He’d seemed reluctant to leave, but Eggsy inexorably convinced him to go away.

Harry would never admit it, but he enjoyed wandering the fair with his best friend, alone except for the milling crowd of university students. This was a student-run affair; therefore, it was built specifically for them. Someone’s parents owned a large manufacturing company that made parts for carnival rides, which made it cheap to rent enough for the engineering students to rig up existing rides, or make up new ones on the spot. Lin was an integral part of this process. The various crafting clubs had put together booths full of their practice pieces, and were selling them to other students and also those of the town brave enough to chance it. If you hadn’t the money, however, there were plenty of games to play for a chance to win something; and the sports clubs were jostling for space, for demonstrations and to pit the official teams against those who fancied themselves good enough to give them a fair fight. Tomorrow Harry would demolish the boxing team, and Eggsy would humiliate the footballers—but for now, they were just friends enjoying the evening together.

The swings were alright. Eggsy whooped joyfully and kicked, but Harry had trouble keeping down the toffee apple (culinary students practicing with sculpting) he’d eaten just two minutes earlier. He’d given the toffee to Eggsy, but the apple had still been good.

It wasn’t so good the second time ‘round, though.

“Sorry,” Eggsy said as Harry vomited into a barrel placed tactfully beside the gate. “I forgot.”

They wandered a while more, but truly, Harry did not wish to be sick a second time. He stood by and watched Eggsy laugh wildly as other students screamed with equal fear and excitement, and he bought drinks, and he won a few small toys for his nieces and nephews; but the nausea stayed with him, and eventually he told Eggsy, “I am going to bed. Too much testing.”

“You had a two-hour nap before we got here!” Eggsy protested, scowling at him. “Come on, it’s only a half hour before curfew, and we haven’t tried the pole climb.”

“No, because it isn’t fair to the rest of these hooligans. You can stay if you want, but I want to get up at a reasonable hour tomorrow.”

Eggsy grumbled, but elected to go with him. Harry wanted to protest, to say it wouldn’t be fair to cut Eggsy’s fun short just because the wet blanket was tired—but there was a tiny, horrible part of him that felt gleeful that Eggsy was coming back with him, and he wouldn’t have to spend a minute knowing Eggsy was having fun without him.

Although, after the initial bout, Eggsy stopped whining and started chattering about how _tomorrow_ they were going to stay _all_ day, and he didn’t care what Harry said, they were gonna climb the pole and win the demos and eat sweets til they were both sick and it was going to be just like when they were kids, damn it, because they’d had barely any fun _all week_.

That made Harry feel guilty. Kingsman University was very strict about testing, and very unusual, in that studying for exams was actually mandatory. All students were expected to take a two-hour break after their last exam of the day, and then come to the library, the common room, or the gallery, and study. Anyone caught “loitering” was deducted two points per exam. There was a superstition amongst the students that those two points were cursed; to lose them was to fail all your exams, so completely and utterly that you may as well quit school entirely and become a tailor or hatter for the rest of your miserable life.

Needless to say, no one had loitered since oldest living memory.

But the last day of exams was done, and the fair had gone up right in time. It would be open for three days, and Eggsy seemed determined to squeeze every last drop of fun out of the experience.

Harry looked forward to it.

~~~\0/~~~

“It didn’t work!”

“Well of course it didn’t,” Percy snapped, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “You really expect either of them to find anything romantic in a _fair_?”

Lance gave him a two-finger salute. Roxy smacked Lance upside the head.

“Don’t be vulgar,” she scolded, then, turning to Percy, “And you, stop grumbling. What’s _your_ idea?”

“I told you, and all of you said no!” Percy cried, throwing up his hands and letting them drop again.

“Because yours would break hearts, not just heads,” Lin reminded. The three others went quiet, the boys sullen. “Arranging a triangle would only hurt whoever you chose to set up. Hmm.” He paused, gazing off into the distance, tapping his pen slowly against his clipboard.

“Maybe we’re all thinking of different results,” Lin said finally. “What do we want from them?”

“For one of them to just say it already,” Lance grumped.

“For both of them to freely admit that they like each other,” Roxy answered.

“For this ridiculousness to end,” Percy muttered.

“Aren’t those all the same?” Lance asked.

Lin shook his shiny head. “No. They’re more of a progression. Let’s start with putting them in a situation where it’s _possible_ that Eggsy will say something to Harry. He’s the most likely to get it over with. Now, here is my idea…”

~~~\0/~~~

On the second day of the fair, just as Harry, Eggsy, and Roxy were sitting under a tree with their lunches to people-watch, a stone-faced man in grease-stained clothing came up to them and silently held out three flyers. Harry took them cautiously, and the man shuffled away again, giving out flyers to anyone who had paused and was standing still for longer than three seconds.

The three students stared after him, baffled.

“…Alright then,” Roxy said finally, and turned to the flyers in Harry’s hand. “What was that for?”

Harry looked down, and his eyebrows rose. “A carnival is coming tomorrow,” he answered her. “Perhaps they don’t know the fair has first dibs.”

“A carnival?” Eggsy leaned over eagerly and read over Harry’s arm. “Fuck, we better finish up here so we can go tomorrow!”

Harry sighed quietly, but did not protest. Roxy gave Harry a sideways glance but said nothing.

They ate lunch first, of course. Then they jumped back into the fray. Eggsy seemed determined to visit every booth, game, and demonstration twice; and with Roxy to go along on the rides, Harry was allowed to stand back and watch in peace.

“Hey, Hart.”

Harry turned, and found himself facing Charlie Hesketh, his main rival. Not that Charlie knew. He thought Harry was just a protective best friend, and therefore a mere enemy. Harry encouraged this way of thinking.

“Hello, Hesketh,” Harry greeted him coolly.

“Where’s Unwin?” Charlie asked bluntly. “I have a question for him.”

“He’s—“

“HARRY! Harry, hurry up, we gotta hit the swings again!” Eggsy ran up, grabbed Harry’s arm, and started to pull him away, then halted, staring at Charlie with the blankest expression Harry had ever seen. And Charlie’s cheeks slowly gained two little red patches high up near his cheekbones.

“No,” Eggsy said flatly.

“But have you considered—“ Charlie began in a wheedling tone, taking a small step forward; Eggsy immediately took a huge step back, and ran into the rail.

A red mist began to creep across Harry’s vision. He stepped sharply in front of Eggsy, facing Charlie, and said in a low voice, “I believe he said ‘no’. I should think that would be enough even for you.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Charlie replied, but he leaned away a little, sliding one foot back.

“Harry, let’s just go,” Eggsy ordered, exasperated. “Ignore him. He’s just a whiny little fuckface.”

Reluctantly, Harry turned away, smoothing his expression. He needed to stop trying to protect Eggsy. Lately, though… lately, it had been getting so much harder. He must protect Eggsy from the evils of the world. Especially the evils of people like Charlie.

“Won’t you consider it?” Charlie asked, a desperate, last-ditch effort to be heard.

“No,” Eggsy replied without turning around, and led Harry out of the fair altogether.

“Are we done for the night?” Harry asked, surprised. It was barely dark; they had only just begun to turn on the lights. Surely Eggsy could not be spoiled by one encounter with a single rotten apple in a batch of toffees. Although, he did feel better leaving the fair behind. It was too many people. He was on his guard too much.

“If we wanna be early to scope the carnival, yeah,” Eggsy replied shortly. “We haven’t sparred in a while. Come fight me, and keep your hands up this time.”

Harry was not at all disinclined to this course of action, and followed Eggsy… not happily, but contentedly.

They decided to take the lift that night, up to their floor to grab their workout clothes. The lift was new, and they hadn’t tried it yet. It worked smoothly and quickly, and Harry nodded approval as they stepped out on to their floor.

“Someone’s been tinkering,” he murmured.

“He’ll get in trouble if he keeps doing that,” Eggsy commented absently, already beginning to shed his outerwear. Harry took his hat and jacket and carried them as Eggsy hopped down the hall, trying to yank off his boots without untying them.

“I sincerely doubt it,” Harry replied, but he knew Eggsy wasn’t listening. That was alright.

~\0/~

Eggsy sneezed.

“Bless you,” Harry said automatically.

“I’m cold,” Eggsy complained. “I’m gonna catch the flu.”

“You will not catch the flu.” Harry took off his jacket and draped it over Eggsy’s shoulders. Eggsy grabbed the edges and pulled it as tight around himself as possible, scowling. It was not much protection, but it was something.

They were standing in the lift, each gloomily evaluating the meaning of this. The sparring had gone off without a hitch, never mind that they’d had an audience as those who had arrived before (and after) them crowded around; they hadn’t been shy in the showers, either, talking over partitions and through curtains to those around them. But there hadn’t been enough towels, and Eggsy was still slightly damp. Thus, his shivering and sneezing.

And now the lift was stuck, unable to open the doors to let them out. There had been no warning, no answer when Harry pressed the emergency button; so they stood in the middle of the chamber, alone, waiting.

“Are we gonna be stuck here all night?” Eggsy asked abruptly.

“No, of course not,” Harry answered, but he didn’t believe it. Someone must have tampered with the lift. It happened, sometimes; people would mistake their friendship for something more, and try the most ridiculous, cliché tactics to make them “confess”. Harry could always see through such silliness, and stubbornly refused to oblige. He wasn’t sure Eggsy even noticed.

Eggsy was thinking the exact same thing, actually. He really was very cold, but he was also shivering with nervousness. This was it. He’d do it this time. He’d say something. He had to. Someone had given them this chance and he must take it. He must.

But… would Harry even notice? Would he even recognize an admission? No. Harry was a brilliant man, the most intelligent person Eggsy had ever known, but he was still woefully blind to the ways of emotional subtlety. And why would he want Eggsy? No alpha wanted an omega like him. No alpha would take a feisty scrap with no manners and more curses than words of love. How many times had he been told that, or something similar? Harry could never love a feral creature like him. Eggsy shivered harder and pulled Harry’s jacket closer. It smelled so much like him, it made Eggsy’s chest hurt.

Harry suddenly sighed and sat on the floor with a thump, leaning against the back wall of the lift. “Have a seat,” he offered, smacking the floor next to him. “It’ll be a while before anyone notices.”

Eggsy sat, and automatically scooted closer. Not too close, not actually touching the other; but close enough.

Harry reached out and wrapped his arm around Eggsy’s shoulders. Eggsy, startled, leaned against him. The contact sent a fiery bolt of something like excitement all through him.

“Remember when we got caught in the cave-in?” Harry asked casually, leaning his head back against the wall, contemplating the ceiling. “In the grotto behind Grandmama’s beach-house? That was worse than anything, I think.”

“Worse than this at least,” Eggsy agreed. He remembered that day. They’d both been soaked to the skin, blocked in by a tumble of dirt and rock, huddled together with their arms wrapped around each other as protection against the shadow-creatures and hungry cave-fish they’d convinced themselves had lived there. Eggsy remembered Harry hiding his face against Eggsy’s shoulder and curling up nearly in Eggsy’s lap, despite being the older of the two, because his fear of the dark was stronger. They’d been around twelve, hadn’t they? “Ain’t any cave-fish in lifts.”

Harry chuckled quietly. “Very true.”

They sat in the harsh white light of the lift and waited patiently for help.

~~~\0/~~~

“It’s not working,” Percy commented, voice sour.

“Be patient,” Lance retorted irritably.

“No, Percy’s right,” Roxy sighed, ignoring Percy’s triumphant smirk and Lance’s annoyed glance at the other man. “We’re not going to get anything out of them with this. Lin?”

Lin pressed a button. It winked yellow, a beep sounded, and the lift started again, as smoothly as it had stopped, because Lin had programmed it so. On the monitor linked to the camera in the lift, Harry and Eggsy sprang to their feet, and Eggsy shrugged out of Harry’s jacket to hand it back.

“Plan C?” Lance asked.

“Technically, Plan D,” Lin corrected, scribbling on his clipboard. “But yes. The carnival is set up and paid for; Roxy has bribed the appropriate persons; and Percy has gotten that job as sweeper. Everything is ready.”

“Wonderful,” Roxy said, and smiled at the three men. “Great work all around, my lads.”

Even Lin blushed a little to hear her say that.

~~~\0/~~~

The carnival! The carnival! Eggsy flung himself through the gate and ran to the first vomit-inducing ride he could find, leaving Harry and Co. far behind. Carnivals and fairs were very much alike, he knew, but carnivals always seemed to have a different, sweeter, more urgent flavor to them. Maybe because most carnivals he’d been to had been larger and more elaborate than the fairs.

And this carnival, oh, goodness, _this_ one! He went on the Pirate Ship, which was a pendulum-ride, and at the very height of the swing, when his end of the ship was in the air, and it felt like they were nearly ninety degrees from the earth, his eye caught on something called The Zipper that looked like it could make even Eggsy feel sick to his stomach. And there was a Ferris wheel twice as big as the fair’s, and three different swing rides that were twice as high, and a miniature rollercoaster, and bumper-cars—Eggsy laughed in delight, and when the ship slowed and came to rest, he nearly fell out and into Harry’s arms (which would not have been a bad thing at all, to him).

“Let’s go on the tilt-a-whirl!” Eggsy gushed, and dragged Harry by the hand through the crowd.

This was not a student-only affair; there were plenty of people from the town, many with children. Eggsy beamed at everyone impartially, and those who he smiled at felt flattered and happy, that such a bright, charming person would smile at them like that. Harry did not smile, but that isn’t to say he frowned—Eggsy wouldn’t have been able to bear making him frown. Harry just looked pleasant and moved courteously, and sometimes his expression warmed when he looked at Eggsy. That made Eggsy grin more, which made Harry smile too, which made Eggsy…

(To those watching, it was almost painful; the adoring grin, the longing stare, and yet the strange apartness. Like neither saw the adoration or longing. Like they were oblivious to the warmth beating from them both like little suns.)

On a whim, Eggsy pointed at the “haunted house” and said, “Let’s go through that.”

Harry opened him mouth to protest, then shut it tight. Eggsy saw, and rolled his eyes with an exaggerated sigh. “It’ll just be for a minute or two,” he assured Harry, too patiently, but with a bit of a smile. “We’ll hurry.”

Harry nodded.

“I’ll hold your hand if you get scared,” Eggsy promised, teasing but also meaning it. Harry was mostly over his fear of small, dark, enclosed places; but sometimes it came on him more strongly than others, and he needed reminding that not all the world was small and dark.

“You most certainly will _not_ ,” Harry replied sharply, shoving his hands in his pockets. Eggsy laughed, and Harry almost smiled.

They gave the man at the entrance their tickets, and Eggsy hopped inside eagerly. Harry followed more warily, like a cat sensing something it isn’t quite sure is friendly or not, just beyond the corner. Eggsy grinned, took Harry’s hand (Harry didn’t argue) and led the way deeper into the darkness.

It wasn’t completely dark, just winding and dim. The lights were all red and yellow and green, and the floors and walls were covered in black fabric. There were funny mirrors, and the usual silly pseudo scary things you’d see during Halloween—but the thing that triggered Harry was when they turned a corner and a cluster of rubber bats on strings fell from the low ceiling, bouncing around as something that was supposed to sound like a colony of bats screeched tiredly from a hidden speaker.

Harry immediately jumped into Fight mode, fists up, feet braced, face pale, expression terrified—Eggsy grabbed his arm and dragged him away, around another corner into a short hall full of mirrors, where, slowly, Harry calmed, though he kept looking over his shoulder and refused to look at the mirrors.

“Here.” Eggsy turned to him, put his hands on either side of his face, and pulled him down until their foreheads touched. Automatically, Harry wrapped his arms around Eggsy’s waist, pulling him closer. “It’s gonna be okay.” Harry’s forehead was cold and clammy; his eyes were shut tight and his teeth were gritted. Eggsy slid his arms around Harry’s neck, gently, and they stood like that for a minute, embracing very close; close enough to kiss, a stupid part of Eggsy pointed out.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Eggsy repeated softly.

“I know,” Harry muttered. He sounded miserable, uneasy—but trusting. He knew it was going to be okay, because Eggsy had said it would be. This made Eggsy nervous, but also extremely happy. Carefully, he tried to step away, moving his head from Harry’s, starting to remove his arms—and Harry jerked him back, hugging him tightly, his face planted in the join of Eggsy’s neck and shoulder. He was starting to shiver faintly.

“Come on,” Eggsy urged, putting his hands on Harry’s waist and guiding him gently towards the exit. “It’ll be over soon. Keep walking with me.”

It was an odd, shuffling kind of walk, but eventually they made it to the door. Harry let go of Eggsy, reluctantly; Eggsy straightened Harry’s clothes briskly, to hide his shaking hands and red cheeks. Then they walked out.

They moved straight to the Ferris wheel. It was slow, it would get them clear of the ground, and it would be lonely. Harry needed to be lonely after a scare. He didn’t seem to mind Eggsy staying with him, to make sure he was alright, but he refused to have anything to do with other people.

They made it to the top without saying a word. Then, as they rose to the crest, Eggsy asked, “Are you gonna be alright when we reach the ground?”

“No,” Harry said shortly. He was staring straight ahead, gazing out at the town that surrounded the university. “Why did we go in there?”

“Because I was being selfish.” Eggsy leaned lightly against him, careful not to upset their little seat. “I’m sorry.”

Harry slid his arm around Eggsy’s waist. “You weren’t being selfish, so don’t apologize.”

Eggsy moved a little closer. So did Harry. Eggsy’s heart began to pound. He leaned a little more. Harry leaned back, just as carefully. Was this it? Did Harry really—were they really going to—

There was a dull _thunk_ , and suddenly the Ferris wheel stopped moving. Harry and Eggsy jerked apart, and peered over the sides down at the ground.

“Damn it,” Harry growled, adjusting the glasses Lin had forced on him. “Something’s jammed, and they’re certainly taking their sweet time about it.”

“Huh.” Eggsy thought about it, then sighed. Of course it’d have to happen now, today, right when he felt most confident. And now they had to sit up here, too hot as the sun beat at them, too cold as the wind blew, and wait while the (probably) bribed carnies took their time fixing the ride. Who would do such a thing? Too many people would’ve clubbed their money just to annoy… well, it wasn’t necessarily Harry and Eggsy. It might be anyone on the wheel.

“Ice cream?” Harry asked suddenly.

“You’re paying,” Eggsy warned him.

“I didn’t expect anything else.”

They sat in companionable silence, Eggsy kicking his feet idly. Harry took a nap with his head on Eggsy’s shoulder. Eggsy swore Harry could nap _anywhere_. He’d even napped while they waited in the cave-in, though that might have been the exhaustion of fear. But it was still an extraordinary skill, in Eggsy’s mind.

Eventually, the wheel shuddered and began moving again. Eggsy jostled Harry lightly, and he popped back into wakefulness. When they reached the ground, the man running the wheel was apologizing to everyone who looked at him, looking very distressed.

“I don’t know what happened,” he kept repeating. “It just stopped. I’m really sorry, I don’t know what happened.”

Eggsy and Harry quietly slipped away and went for ice cream.

~\0/~

Harry got no enjoyment from his chocolate ice cream. The fear was still bitter in his mouth and throat. He’d been fine until the sudden movement, the unnatural shriek; until his nerves, already wound tight by nausea, had snapped a little too suddenly. He did not like small dark spaces, and he was very glad Eggsy had been there to get him out again.

“I’m sorry,” Eggsy repeated, licking the last traces of strawberry-banana ice cream from his plastic spoon.

Harry just handed him the rest of his chocolate.

They scouted out destinations for tomorrow, and then trudged back to the dormitories. It was late, they were tired; and tomorrow was another Family Lunch.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got so far out of hand, I am so sorry.

Eggsy tensed as soon as he walked through the door and spotted mum—and Dean.

Harry nudged him slightly. “You’ll be fine,” he murmured, and struck out in a different direction, to find his own parents.

Why the Harts and the Bakers had chosen the same restaurant was unknown. Frankly, Eggsy didn’t care. What he cared about was that Dean was eyeing him with hostility, and mum looked unhappy. They had not brought Daisy. Mum had said she’d bring Daisy. Eggsy could’ve withstood anything with his baby sister beside him. He made himself walk over, forced himself to relax, nodded hello, and sat across from mum, turned so that he didn’t have to look at Dean.

The lines of unhappiness on mum’s face deepened. “Babe,” she began.

“Where’s Dais?” Eggsy asked, casual and innocent.

“With a babysitter. Eggsy, we need to talk.”

Eggsy tensed up all over again, but his voice was calm. “About what?”

~~~\0/~~~

Harry suffered through the lunch with one eye on Eggsy. This did not impair his ability to make conversation readily; it simply meant he was the first to notice the signs of trouble.

When Eggsy shoved away from the table and stood, furious and looking ready to shout, Harry stood too. He had to be quick, otherwise—

“NO! I’m not doing it!” Eggsy yelled, “I’ll never do it! I—“

Harry hadn’t been quick enough. But he grabbed Eggsy’s arm and dragged him to the door, ignoring the verbal abuse Eggsy showered on him. Once they were outside, Eggsy would calm down. Away from bad influences, he would calm.

But he didn’t. Through the doors and on the pavement, Eggsy was still hurling insults and demands for an explanation, heavily seasoned with ‘fuck’s and ‘shit’s. Harry growled in exasperation and shoved Eggsy into the wall. The impact knocked the air from Eggsy’s lungs, and his shouting abruptly ceased.

“Please stop,” Harry commanded, not pleading at all.

Eggsy did so, still looking furious—and then his face crumpled, and he hid it in his hands. Harry automatically stepped forward to hug him, then remembered, and instead just put his hand on Eggsy’s shoulder.

“What did he say?” Harry asked gently, softly.

Eggsy shook his head.

“Will you tell me later?”

Another negative.

Harry sighed, and took a breath to ask if he wanted to go home. Then he let it out again. No. They couldn’t go home, not yet.

“Tell me when you can go back in,” he said instead.

They stood there for a long time, Eggsy hugging himself and staring at his toes, Harry gazing at the sky. Harry half expected someone to come out and get them, but no. The world went on turning. Life went on around them. No one came out of the restaurant to scold, or to order them back in, or even to ask what the problem was. Maybe that was why Eggsy sunk further and further into anger and misery.

Finally, Harry could bear it no longer. He took Eggsy by the elbow, and gently towed him back inside. Everything was as it had been. There were glances, but no stares, and no whispers. Harry glanced to the Bakers’ table; Michelle and Dean were sitting in cold, angry silence. Neither of them looked up. Harry’s parents, however, had gotten an extra chair somehow; so Harry let go of Eggsy and led the way to them, letting Eggsy sit before he lowered himself into his own chair.

“So how have you been these past months?” Mother asked politely.

“Fine,” Eggsy grunted, staring at the clean place setting that had been placed while he and Harry had been outside. Harry kicked him gently under the table. “I’ve been fine, thank you.”

Mother and Father shared the quickest of glances, but did not ask. Instead they continued their conversation on whether Harry should come to the country estate or the London house during break. Father extended an invitation to Eggsy casually, almost absent-mindedly, and Mother spoke as if it was already decided that Eggsy would come. All this talk of staying away from his own home confused Eggsy, making him annoyed, but also giving him great relief. Harry forgave his parents for their earlier comments on how the search for a mate was going.

Up until Mother asked so sweetly, “What are your plans for after you get your degree? Are you going to settle down and have a family?”

Harry paled, though his expression remained calm. Lately Eggsy had taken to snapping at anyone who talked about settling down to or around him. Harry suspected it had something to do with Charlie. But if he snapped at Mother—

Eggsy flushed a painful-looking red, expression mutinous as he met Mother’s sly gaze. “I’m not going to have a family,” he replied shortly. “I’m going back to the Marines after I graduate. There’s no point sticking around where I’m not needed.”

_I_ need you, Harry almost said aloud; he caught the sentence before it escaped, and instead began folding his napkin into interesting shapes. _I_ need you with me, always and forever. But that was ridiculous. He didn’t need Eggsy. And while it was a jealous, bitter triumph to hear that Eggsy would have no one, it still hurt that ‘no one’ included Harry.

Mother looked at them both thoughtfully. Father played with a cigar, but did not light it. “Well,” Father said finally, “I doubt that you’re unneeded, son, but—“

“Mom! Dad! Hazza! Gary!”

It was Eggsy’s turn to prevent Harry from knocking things over, grabbing his arm before he could jump up and run. Harry’s eldest brother, Johnathon, slung his arm around Harry’s shoulders and kissed his cheek, before circling the table and repeating the gesture for Mother and Father. Johnathon was permanently drunk, and amazingly cheerful about it. Behind Johnathon came the next oldest Hart son, Sylvester. He patted Harry’s head absently like a pet dog and pinched Eggsy’s cheek, then sat between Eggsy and Mother. Johnathon had claimed the spot on Harry’s right and Father’s left.

“Hello, everyone!” Johnathon crowed, grabbing Harry’s untouched wine glass. “It’s been far too long! When are you getting hitched again?” he asked Harry and Eggsy.

Eggsy turned red. Harry went white. Sylvester snapped, “Oh, shut up, John. You’re sober again.”

“True, true!” Johnathon drained the glass of wine and set it down again very carefully, grinning carelessly. “Sorry, you’re just so cute together, I—Ow!” as Harry kicked him under the table, hard.

“That’s enough,” Father rumbled, scowling fiercely. “Keep your voice down and your conversation civil.”

Johnathon scowled back, but subsided, pouting.

A waiter came and quietly took Johnathon and Sylvester’s orders. He didn’t even look at Eggsy, who bristled, though his face remained polite if a little stiff. Harry wished the earth would open and swallow him whole—although that would leave Eggsy alone with Harry’s family, and that would be too much like torture.

The lunch was a nightmare. Harry and Eggsy sat stiff and mostly silent as Johnathon got drunker and drunker and louder and louder, Father got angrier and angrier, Mother began to frown in a most terrifying way, and Sylvester, as the meal went on, got creepier and creepier. By the third course Eggsy had scooted his chair almost until it touched Harry’s, trying to get away; and on the fourth, Harry stood, walked around their chairs, pushed Eggsy into Harry’s vacated seat, and took the now-open one. Sylvester, foiled, scowled at them both.

Dessert, and the check, could not have come sooner. As soon as the bill was in Father’s hand, Eggsy shot to his feet, throwing down his napkin; Harry rose only a fraction of a second later, and said smoothly, “Well, we really must be off. We’ve both got studying to do.” He forced a smile that did not include Sylvester. Eggsy was already walking to the door.

Mother murmured something. Father said, “Alright, son. Wonderful talking to you.”

“See you later, little brother!” Johnathon boomed cheerfully.

Harry nodded and left. He glanced at the table where the Bakers had been sitting; there was a new family there now, a happier one. That was always wonderful to see.

He caught up with Eggsy just outside the door. The other couldn’t even look at Harry. That hurt more than any of Johnathon’s prodding about how Harry should give up this learning nonsense and just become a socialite, since he hadn’t any future in his chosen fields.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, quietly and sincerely, as they began the long walk back to the dorms. “For both of them.”

“I wish they would drop down dead,” Eggsy muttered fiercely.

“If I could, I would.”

“No—no, that’s not what I—damn it Harry, stop doing that!” Eggsy hissed, obviously distressed.

“Doing what?” Harry asked, alarmed. He’d been telling the truth. If he could get rid of Sylvie and Johnathon to protect Eggsy, he’d do it. Fuck, he’d do anything to protect Eggsy.

“Stop offering to kill people for me! It’s not funny!”

“I wasn’t trying to be funny!”

Eggsy stopped suddenly. Harry kept going a few steps, then pivoted to face Eggsy. He was starting to sweat with nerves. He knew Eggsy could tell. Didn’t they know each other like the backs of their hands? Couldn’t they read each other with a glance? He’d do anything for him—please believe that. Anything. Anything at all.

“You really weren’t, were you,” Eggsy said softly.

“No,” Harry replied.

There was no one else around. They were on an empty stretch of path, on a shortcut through the park. There were flowers blooming. Harry could not look away.

Eggsy looked down. Then, his voice gone all croaking, he said, “I… would do the same for you, I think. If you needed it.”

This was the oddest, most morbid conversation they had ever had. But it cleared up a few points. Harry found that very reassuring. Gently, he stepped forward and slid his arm through Eggsy’s. “Let’s go home,” he suggested. “We’ll work it out later.”

Eggsy smiled a little, and murmured something about being married already. Harry chose to ignore it, since it sent a happy shiver up his spine. Even as a joke, it was a wonderful hope.

They walked arm in arm until they spotted people. Then they let go and walked side by side. Then they couldn’t even do that, as the pavement grew more crowded, and they were forced into single file, Eggsy forging a path, Harry following in his wake.

“Carnival?” Harry ventured.

“No,” Eggsy replied, voice tight. “Not tonight.”

Harry said no more.

~~~\0/~~~

The Harts met with their accountant that night and had a long discussion. It was mostly business, which was got through calmly and efficiently; the Harts were not in the habit of cheating on their taxes, nor failing to pay or collect money. Then they came to the delicate question of what had put Eggsy in such a temper.

When Michelle repeated the ultimatum her husband had given, Abagail’s jaw dropped, and Henry blustered, offended by the mere notion.

“No wonder he was angry!” Henry huffed, scowling mightily. “I’d’ve decked the man!”

“No, you would _not_ have,” Abagail contradicted sharply. “And think of it from Gary’s point of view. He’s young, with no home of his own, not even a sweetheart, and no direction that Harry would give us. Did he say to you what he wanted out of life?” she asked Michelle.

Michelle, who looked suddenly sadder and more tired, answered, “Only that he wanted to go back to the Marines. So many opportunities—and he wants to go back to _that_.”

“Well, he did say he felt unneeded,” Henry commented, a little uneasily.

“ _I_ need him,” Michelle retorted harshly, her expression twisting with anger. “ _I_ need my little boy to be safe. I don’t care _how_ he stays safe, either; but I’m not losing him the way I lost Lee.”

~\0/~

Roxy decided the boys were taking too long with their tactics, and that it would probably be easier to get Harry and Eggsy to admit it to someone other than each other. She resolved to tackle Eggsy first.

It was hard to get him alone, but eventually she caught him in the library, fetching books for himself and Harry. Eggsy could tell from her determined expression that there was no escape, and sighed, setting the stack of books down on the table.

“Now what?” he murmured with a comically aggrieved expression.

Roxy looked around. No one was close enough to hear. She turned back to Eggsy and asked, softly but firmly, “What are your feelings for Harry?”

Eggsy froze. His face went completely blank. Roxy rolled her eyes and dragged him by the arm into a narrow passage between bookshelves. The shelves were good, solid wood; eavesdropping would be very hard.

“Do you like him?” Roxy demanded. “Because that’s the way you act around him.”

Eggsy looked stubborn for all of three seconds. Then he slumped, defeated. “Yeah,” he mumbled, shamefaced. “I like him a lot.”

Roxy blinked. That was easy. Then she sighed, exasperated. “So why don’t you just tell him?”

“Because he doesn’t want me, and he never will.”

She opened her mouth to tell Eggsy to stop being dramatic, then paused. Eggsy did not look like he was being dramatic. He looked depressed, even miserable. He truly believed Harry could never love him.

“Why do you think that?” Roxy asked gently.

“Because… you won’t tell?”

“Cross my heart.”

He looked so like an anxious child, asking a friend on the playground not to tell his crush, that Roxy softened even more. A bad idea; Eggsy was a wily one. But she trusted to their friendship, trusted that he would trust her. And the trust paid off, because Eggsy took a deep breath, and let out a torrent of words.

It summarized as Eggsy’s life story, with many tangents on Harry’s virtues and general wonderfulness; it seemed Eggsy and Harry had been such good friends for so long, their lives were inseparable. The only point where Eggsy faltered was when he first entered the Marines, and, for the first time, had nearly no contact with Harry. Roxy waited politely, but when he remained silent, she prodded gently, “Did you send him letters?”

“Every day,” Eggsy answered readily. “But—he never wrote back, and when I got home and asked about it, he said he’d never gotten them. I think that was his brother, trying to push us apart. But it didn’t work,” he proclaimed, half triumphant, half angry. “We were still friends.”

“And he still didn’t know.”

“No. He—he had a sweetheart.” It was like it physically pained Eggsy to say it. “He wouldn’t talk about them, but I could tell.”

He wouldn’t talk about it because it was _you_ , dumdum. But Roxy did not say that.

“And then he got me a place here and… and that was it.”

That wasn’t it. That wasn’t all of it by miles. But Roxy accepted it, because she could tell that Eggsy was already regretting most of what he’d told her. Probably the part about sometimes dreaming that he and Harry had babies together, which was quite an uncharacteristic thought. That would be why he regretted it. “Well, thank you for telling me. That has cleared up quite a few conundrums. I swear not to tell anyone else.”

~\0/~

Bearding Harry in his den was much easier. Roxy simply waited until Lin had driven Eggsy out of the dorm with his technical jargon, then stepped up to the open door and knocked on it politely.

“Can I speak to Harry?” she asked. “Alone?”

Lin frowned a little, then caught on, and nodded. Harry narrowed his eyes. “What do you want to discuss?” he asked carefully, leaning back in his chair.

“I’ll just be off, then,” Lin excused himself gracefully, and left before Harry could even begin to protest.

Roxy stepped inside the room and closed the door firmly behind her. She actually rather liked Harry and Eggsy’s rooms. Their personalities were distinct and clearly divided: Harry’s half of the room was clean, neat, warm without decoration; Eggsy’s side was a riot of color, posters on the walls, handmade pillows and blankets, a cluttered desk full of bright-colored staplers and tape dispensers and pens. Harry’s desk was only messy when he was studying.

Roxy chose to sit in Eggsy’s chair, turned sideways so she could hook one elbow over the back and gaze levelly at a wary Harry.

“So what are your feelings for Eggsy?” she asked bluntly.

The blood drained from Harry’s face, except for two red patches on his cheeks; his expression remained the same. “He is my friend,” he answer cautiously. “You don’t seriously believe Andre and his crowd?”

Andre was the most vocal doubter of Eggsy and Harry’s friendship. Roxy despised him. “No, I don’t. I believe what my eyes and ears tell me,” she told Harry. “And they’re telling me you don’t see Eggsy as just a friend.”

Harry stared at her for a little while. Then he answered, very quietly and tightly, “That is none of your business.”

“I know it’s not. But it is very much Eggsy’s business.”

“Eggsy doesn’t care.”

“Eggsy cares very much.”

Harry shook his head. “Eggsy does not care for me,” he repeated firmly. “He has often said that it is impossible for him to do so. Thus, he is my friend, and nothing more.”

Roxy eyed him for a moment, then nodded, slowly. “I suppose that makes sense,” she said, “But I wouldn’t count on it.”

Then she stood and left.

~\0/~

“He said WHAT?!”

Roxy gestured sharply for Percy to keep his voice down, and he did so, muttering to himself. A little louder, “That can’t be right. Eggsy’s said more than once that he’s got a type, and it fits Harry to a T!”

“Well, Harry doesn’t see it that way, or he’s never heard Eggsy talk about it properly. And Eggsy isn’t good at hints, so he’s been bottling it all up inside for years, since they were children together.” Roxy paused and thought for a moment. Then she grinned. “Perhaps, my dear, that’s what this all is.”

“All what is?” Percy grumbled.

“A bond.”

“A b—Harry doesn’t bond! Mr. Ice-and-Stone himself? No, I won’t believe it,” Percy said firmly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Roxy sighed and looked around. They were in her room, shared with Gwen, alone and with the door shut. Lance was supposed to have joined them, but he and Gwen were at the carnival tonight, and Lin was embedded in his precious workshop. So Percy was Roxy’s only audience as she related the minimum of what she had learned. She dared not give out Eggsy’s whole story. That would be a breach of trust too painful for either of them to bear.

But at least Percy knew the difference between “can’t” and “won’t”.

“You’ll have to believe it, until I’m proved wrong,” Roxy retorted, voice clipped. “All the signs point to it. I don’t need to list them for you. Now, we need to concentrate on how to get them to bloody admit it already.”

~~~\0/~~~

Eggsy was quite shaken by his unexpected outpouring of information, and carried it with him all day. Harry had noticed when he’d come back from the library missing two books; but he hadn’t said anything. Then Lin had come and been boring and taken Harry’s attention, and Eggsy—selfishly, he knew, so very selfishly—decided to go visit the carnival by himself.

He brought his cellphone, of course, just in case. He knew Harry would find him in a jiffy, but it was still better to have that little extra bit of reassurance.

There were still a lot of people there. Eggsy was soon lost in the crowd, anonymous and alone. He wandered, looking at each ride and game and finding no pleasure in the thought of any of them. Maybe if he had Harry with him… but Harry was tired of the carnival. He wouldn’t say it, but Eggsy could tell.

He never seemed to get tired of watching Eggsy have fun, though. That was quite a mystery. Eggsy didn’t really care what the answer was; he preferred to hope.

Eggsy was just deciding to go home when he turned and bumped into Charlie, literally.

Immediately, he took a huge step back. No. No, no, no. Not this, not again. “ _No_ ,” he spat, and turned to walk away—but Charlie grabbed his arm and started talking very fast.

“Look I’m sorry I was so rude the first time I didn’t mean to hurt you but I did mean that I do really lo—“

“Let GO of me!”

Eggsy wrenched at his arm, but Charlie held fast with both hands now, even though people were starting to notice. Eggsy wrenched again, and again, but Charlie was digging in his heels and still talking.

“—ve you I can do better than anyone else I can be better than that dickhead Harry I know he likes you but he doesn’t _love_ you not like I do and I can—“

Eggsy drew back his fist and socked Charlie right in the jaw. Charlie gasped and staggered, still hanging on with one hand; Eggsy grabbed his pinky and forced it back farther than any human finger had any right to be, and Charlie yelped and let go, still off-balance enough that a hard shove sent him sprawling.

“I said _NO_!” Eggsy roared to the downed figure, noticing vaguely that the crowd was shuffling away from the combatants. “How many times do I gotta fuckin’ say it before you get it through your thick skull, ya fuckface?! I don’t want you, I’ve _never_ wanted you, and I’m never _gonna_ want you! So keep your hands off me and your mouth off Harry!”

And with that, he stormed away, fighting the urge to cry. It wasn’t fearful tears; it was angry crying, furious tears, that all these alpha thought they could just have him whenever they wanted. Selfish bastards, all of them. _All_ of them. For a moment, he hated all of them, the entire population, hated each and every one with a passion, wished them all pain and misery and fear, all the things they’d inflicted on him and all other omega—

But what about Roxy? What about Lin, Lance, Percy, Gwen? What about Harry?

It was lucky it was dark and no one was around. There was no one to see Eggsy give a little sob and cover his face with his hands. No. He could never wish pain on them. Not just because of a few rotten apples. But he could still be angry. He could not hate, but he could be angry at a society that taught its alpha to just take whatever they wanted.

Eggsy walked home, a little faster than usual, because it was dark and there was no one else around.

~~~\0/~~~

Harry was getting ready to leave and look for Eggsy when he walked through the door, looking exhausted.

“What happened?” Harry asked, setting down his boots. That something was wrong was plain; that it was recent was also plain.

Eggsy just looked at him for a minute, then walked over and hugged him hard. Startled, Harry returned the gesture. Something was very wrong indeed.

“So you know how you said you’d do anything for me?” Eggsy mumbled into Harry’s chest.

Well, Harry had never explicitly stated it, but… “Yes?”

“Can you get rid of Charlie for me?”

Harry grinned. It was a good thing Eggsy couldn’t see it. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is literally the most forced thing I've ever written. But I felt like it was time, so here y'all go.

Harry did not follow his first instinct and kill Charlie. That would have been too messy, and anyway, he didn’t want to be marked a criminal and thrown in prison, because how could he ever hold Eggsy in his arms again if he were jailed?

No. No, instead, Harry began a Campaign.

He started rumors. He faked evidence, in such a way that, even if it were discovered, it could never be traced to Harry. He extracted real stories of Charlie’s various crimes and published them anonymously in the school paper. He fed the communal anger and fear carefully, quietly.

It took Eggsy a week to figure out what he was doing.

“Why don’t you just get rid of him?!” Eggsy hissed, one night as they were supposed to be counting ceiling-stars.

Harry traced another shape with his finger. “What do you think that one should be called?” he asked innocently.

“Don’t change the subject!”

“You started it.” Harry rolled his head to see Eggsy lying on his side and glaring. Harry forced a smile. “I can’t. It’s too risky,” he explained calmly. “If I could, believe me, I would.” He decided to be bold, and reached out to stroke Eggsy’s cheek with his knuckles, very gently. Eggsy caught Harry’s hand and pressed it against his face. Harry swallowed hard, but continued. “This way, he’ll be disgraced as well as removed. He won’t hurt you ever again.”

Eggsy… kissed his hand. Actually _kissed_ it. It was a shy, awkward brush, just a butterfly sensation of lips against the back of Harry’s hand, but it was real, and it happened. Hope surged, and he almost rolled up on his elbow to kiss back, kiss Eggsy on the mouth, nose, cheeks, neck—but the fantasy vanished as quickly as it arrived. It could be a friend-kiss, a thank you kiss. It didn’t necessarily mean anything.

Harry’s chest hurt.

“Thanks, I guess,” Eggsy grumbled, and let go. Harry hesitated, wanting to touch Eggsy’s mouth—but he thought better of it, and instead returned his hand to his side. “I still think you should kill ‘im.”

“I will, if it becomes absolutely necessary,” Harry vowed. “You’re—“ mine, all mine, _my_ Eggsy—no, never say that, never _think_ that—“My best friend, after all.”

Was that a flicker of sadness, a flash of impatience? Eggsy settled for a scowl. “It’s still creepy when you agree with me on that,” he muttered.

“Stop saying it and I’ll stop agreeing.” Harry rolled over on his side and, again, touched Eggsy’s cheek. He wanted to see if he could get away with it a second time. Eggsy immediately grabbed Harry’s hand in both of his and rolled away, yanking Harry over on his stomach; he let out a yelp of surprise, and then began to laugh. And again, that feel of a kiss, this time on his palm—and one on the tip of each finger, each sending a shiver all the way through him until he was laughing so hard nothing came out but choked wheezing. He propped himself upright and hooked his arm around Eggsy, elbow over his waist and hand clenched on his, and kissed Eggsy’s neck.

Eggsy gasped.

The world fell still.

“…Oh god,” Harry whispered. “Oh god, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—I’m so sorry.”

Eggsy rolled over on his back and stared up at Harry, who became frightfully aware that the door was unlocked (though closed), the projector was on its side between them, he still hadn’t let go of Eggsy’s hand, and Eggsy’s eyes were the most perfect shade of grey-hazel in the whole world.

And then the moment of indecision was broken by someone knocking on the door and Roxy calling, “Harry, Eggsy, I need to talk to you guys.”

Harry sat up immediately, righted the projector with his free hand, loosened his hold on Eggsy, ignored the little whimper Eggsy gave, and stood, brushing himself off. “Yes, yes, come in,” he called back, sitting heavily on his bed as Eggsy pushed himself upright, still staring at Harry.

Roxy stepped inside and closed the door behind her. She locked it, observing the little scene, and said simply, “Have you said it yet?”

“Said what?” Harry asked blankly, as Eggsy (still looking at Harry) blushed crimson.

“Never mind,” Roxy sighed, before getting straight to the point. “Charlie has been expelled. There are dozens of rumors about why, and half of them have to do with Eggsy. Harry, what the _hell_ did you do?”

“Nothing at all,” Harry answered mildly.

“Oh, stop acting innocent,” Roxy snapped, putting her hands on her hips. “Everyone can see you had something to do with this. No one can prove anything, but it’s got your style all over it. Eggsy, did you know?”

“Not til tonight,” Eggsy replied sulkily. Why hadn’t he looked away yet? Harry realized he was rubbing his palm, the one Eggsy had kissed, and forced himself to stop.

“So much for secrecy,” Harry sighed quietly.

“Answer the question, Harry,” Roxy demanded flatly.

Harry bit the inside of his cheek for a moment, then answered her smoothly and honestly. “I have begun a Campaign. I’m going to drive Charlie out of this county. He’s a fuckin’ prick and deserves it.”

“And it has nothing to do with what he did at the carnival a week ago?”

Finally Eggsy’s head snapped around and he stared at her, eyes wide. She gave him an impatient look. “You think no one saw? Half the school knows, including us.” Meaning her, Lance, Percy, and Lin. “Really, you’re both being very dense.”

“About what?” Eggsy asked cautiously.

Roxy threw up her hands. “Save me from fools and the willfully blind,” she growled. “Alright, one thing at a time. Harry. Why are you doing this?”

Because Eggsy asked and he could never refuse him. “Because I take offense at his existence,” Harry answered calmly.

“Because I asked him to,” Eggsy corrected, sounding vaguely nervous.

Roxy raised both eyebrows. “Interesting,” she replied neutrally. She seemed to have been mollified, although why was completely unknown to Harry. “Did you ask because he assaulted you at the carnival?”

Harry’s attention sharpened immediately and narrowed to only Eggsy, who looked uncomfortable even as he muttered defiantly, “It wasn’t assault, he just—scared me a bit.”

“Did he touch you?” Harry demanded, a little harshly. Strange, possessive emotions were stirring inside of him, as well as the clean anger of a person whose friend was harmed without their knowledge.

“Well—yes,” Eggsy answered, then firmed up his chin and glared back at Harry. “I punched him and he let go,” he continued, “And I think I made things simple and clear enough even for him.”

“But you still want him to be got rid of.”

“It’d be nice if he were removed, yes. I can’t just keep punching him.”

“Well, he _has_ been removed,” Roxy informed them, interrupting before Harry had to think of a reply. “Didn’t you hear me? He’s been expelled. Your smear campaign worked. So now what?”

Harry thought for a moment. “…I don’t know,” he said finally, frowning at the floor. “And it wasn’t a smear campaign, it was just a Campaign. A Crusade. I was removing a threat. And now he has been removed. Has he been disgraced?”

“No, but there are rumors.” Roxy finally sat, in Eggsy’s desk-chair. Eggsy himself folded his legs tailor-style and sat up properly, eyes returning to Harry. “Mostly about Eggsy, some about you, none about the two of you working together. There are a lot of people talking about how all the anonymous columns in the student paper are rubbish, but people have started stepping forward as the interviewees. Interesting how most of them are the shy, quiet sort who’d never have said something usually.” Roxy glanced sharply at Harry; he used his most perfect innocently confused expression. “Which means Charlie picked his harassment victims very carefully indeed. His biggest mistake was going after Eggsy.”

Eggsy snorted. “He kept saying no one else would want me,” he spoke up bitterly, his gaze trailing to the floor. “That he was the only one who really loved me. It wasn’t a mistake. I think—at times, I think he even believed himself.”

Harry was on his knees beside Eggsy with no knowledge of any intervening movement, and checked himself before he could go in to hug—but Eggsy’s expression decided him, and he wrapped Eggsy comfortably in his arms. He couldn’t see her, but he knew Roxy was smirking.

“You don’t gotta be all huggy like that,” Eggsy muttered, even as he leaned his head on Harry’s shoulder.

“You don’t gotta be all sad like that,” Harry retorted, gently. No, disgrace and expulsion weren’t enough; he must drive Charlie out of the county, out of the country, out of Europe entirely. Drive him to some place where there was no one to see or hear and then—

Eggsy actually scooted closer. Surprised, Harry tightened his arms around him. So… so the kiss was forgiven? That was good. But what about—

Then both men remembered Roxy, sitting in her chair and smiling like a cat in the cream. “So I’m assuming you want me gone?” she asked sweetly.

“No. No, it’s fine.” Harry tried to let go, but Eggsy snuggled against him and a wash of giddy hope made him tremble for half a second. He couldn’t let go now, Eggsy would fall over. Or he would. He wasn’t sure. He just didn’t know what he’d say if Roxy left. “Wh-what else did you want to say?”

“Only that you are looking particularly cute together today,” Roxy said sweetly.

That did it. They broke apart like two magnets, scrambling back until they each hit their respective beds. Eggsy clambered up into his and sat with his back pressed against the wall, his face crimson. Harry only sat on the edge of his own mattress, but leaned back on his hands. Roxy scowled at them both, but said nothing else about it. Instead, she asked, “So what are you going to do now?”

“Disgrace what’s left of Charlie’s good name,” Harry replied smoothly, “And then I’m going to have lunch with my parents.”

~~~\0/~~~

Father laughed uproariously at Harry’s descriptions of his Campaign. Mother tittered behind her hand, smirking. Harry had waited for when Sylvester had dragged Jonathon home to tell them, and now he was glad, because Jonathon would have died laughing and Sylvester would have been very angry. Harry missed them on occasion, but not now.

“I hope Gary was properly grateful,” Father chuckled, when he had calmed.

“He is,” Harry replied. “He’s promised to do my physics homework for a month.”

“Anything else?” Mother asked with a sly glance.

“No, nothing, really,” Harry answered regretfully. “That’s the only bit of excitement.”

“Have you thought about choosing a mate yet?” Father suddenly inquired.

Harry blinked at this change of subject. “Well—no,” he replied. “I’ve been busy. I haven’t been interested. Why do you keep asking?” as he became quite annoyed.

“We’re just asking,” Mother answered innocently. “We’d like to see our in-laws and grandbabies soon, that’s all.”

“Well, you won’t get them for another few years yet,” Harry retorted firmly. “I intend to finish studying before I even think of marriage and children.”

“Hmm. Well. You had better finish soon.”

The back of Harry’s neck prickled. “Or what?”

“Or we’ll cut you off. Strike you out of the will. Cut off every penny. _Some_ one has to continue the line; your mother and I have reason to believe our lives are in da—“

Harry’s phone rang, with Eggsy’s particular ringtone. Harry had not been expecting any calls, and so had not put it on silent; one glance at his parents and their disapproving frowns told him what they thought of this transgression.

“It’s Gary,” he explained. “May I?”

Mother nodded gracefully. Father scowled, but waved his permission. Harry stood and walked in the direction of the door as he answered the call. “Yes? What’s wrong?”

 _“Can you please come pick me up?”_ Eggsy’s voice whispered on the other end.

Harry’s steady pace became a determined lope. “Why, what’s wrong?”

_“Dean is here.”_

Harry was sprinting now. “What—does he—want?” he panted, swerving around tables and slamming through the double-doors.

Eggsy told him what Dean had said so long ago. Harry growled a string of curses as he pelted down the street. “I’m on my way,” he ended, skidding to a halt and waving down a cab. “Keep your head down and I’ll be there soon.”

~~~\0/~~~

Eggsy could not keep his head down, though, because he was forced to leave the bathroom to which he had fled by the simple fact of Dean entering and claiming the stall next to the one Eggsy was hiding in. Quietly, Eggsy escaped.

Mum was sitting at their table, cooing softly to her daughter, who was enthusiastically smearing ketchup on her tiny face. Mum was patiently wiping away the smears with her napkin. When she saw Eggsy slinking to the table, glancing over his shoulder often, her soft expression became troubled.

“Why can’t you face him?” she asked as Eggsy sat. “You always have before.”

“Because I refuse to do as he says,” Eggsy replied flatly. “I called Harry. He’s going to come get me. He’ll make up some bullshit excuse and then we’re leavin’. Hello again, Dais,” as his little sister reached for him, making baby noises that meant she was entirely content and wanted her brother. Eggsy reached over and took her ketchup-slimed hand, smiling reluctantly as she squealed.

“Why?” mum repeated. The troubled expression grew to distress.

Eggsy felt like kicking himself. How dare he worry and hurt her like this. The best mum in the world, and he was—

Dean had returned. Eggsy tensed automatically. Daisy complained as Eggsy’s hand closed on hers a little too tightly; he let go, and she complained again, louder. So he held it gently, and smiled slightly as she grinned, and began to cover herself in ketchup again. Daisy could always distract him properly.

Dean sat heavily. “You gonna do it?” he demanded bluntly.

“No,” Eggsy replied flatly, glaring right into his eyes. “I’m stayin’ in school.”

Before Dean could do more than clench his jaw, Harry appeared magically beside their table. Eggsy looked up in relief; Daisy laughed in greeting. Mum smiled politely, and Dean glared as if Harry were his mortal enemy.

“Excuse me,” Harry began politely, “But I need to borrow Eggsy. I have been reminded that we have a class project due tomorrow that we haven’t finished.”

“That’s tomorrow?” Eggsy exclaimed, feeling an honest thrill of fear. There _was_ a class project they were doing together, and it _was_ due soon—but surely not _that_ soon?

“Yes. And we have to do that speech.”

Eggsy stood immediately, wiping his hands on his napkin to get off the ketchup, not even looking at his family and Dean, he was so startled. “And I haven’t even finished writing it—“

“—which is why Lance and Roxy are doing it for you. Good day,” Harry said pleasantly, booped Daisy’s nose gently with one finger, and led the way out of the restaurant.

They piled into a cab waiting at the curb, and as it set off, Eggsy slumped in his seat.

“It’s not due tomorrow, is it?” he asked nervously.

“No,” Harry assured him, “It’s due tonight.”

“Oh fuck.”

“But you _did_ finish writing that speech, and we’ve got most of the presentation done,” Harry reminded him, and squeezed his hand. “All that’s left is putting it together and rehearsing.”

“I hate recording myself, though,” Eggsy grumbled.

“It’s either record yourself tonight or stand in front of the whole class tomorrow.”

“…Recording is fine.”

~~~\0/~~~

Lin fussed with the camera. Roxy fussed with the lights. Lance fussed with the sheet they were using as a backdrop. Percy stood at the back and scowled at them all.

Eggsy was in the bathroom, letting Harry fuss with him. His tie had to be absolutely straight, his collar absolutely crisp; his jacket must hang from his shoulders just so, and his hair had to be brushed and styled. Eggsy was fairly sure Harry was taking longer than he should for some reason.

“You really should get a trim,” Harry told him, as he brushed stubborn bits of hair into a proper shape.

“It’s fine,” Eggsy retorted. “I’ll get it shaved tomorrow.”

“But it’s such a nice color,” Harry teased, in his deadpan way.

“Just get it over with.”

Harry gave him a disapproving look, but one last swipe with a brush and he allowed Eggsy to stand and precede him out of the bathroom.

“Well, don’t _you_ look spiffy,” Roxy greeted him dryly. “Come on, hurry up, we’re almost done.”

“Just a sound check, and then we’re ready,” Lance told them absently, his back to Eggsy and Harry; then he turned, and yelped comically. “Holy _shit_!” he cried, “You’ve tamed him!”

Eggsy scowled and snatched up his speech. “Just get outta my way, and stay there,” he snarled, taking his position.

“Lights, camera, action!”

Eggsy froze. He did not like being taped. It made him feel like he was in jail. But through the freezing, he glanced around—and there was Harry, right by the camera. Harry, his rock in the storm. Eggsy thawed, and began speaking.

“Friends, we are gathered here today to discuss a question fundamental to what we perceive as “laws” of physics…”

~~~\0/~~~

“I think you did very well.”

Eggsy still looked sour. Harry sighed and finished cutting his hair. Eggsy had decided against shaving his head bald; he didn’t want to look like Lin. So Harry was giving him a trim.

Everyone had packed up and gone. Lance was in charge of sound mixing; Lin would do the video editing. Roxy and Percy were returning the lights, camera, and microphone to the videography club. Harry had been about to ask if he could help, but the tiniest tug on his sleeve and he decided against it.

And now he was done trimming Eggsy’s hair, and told him, “Now, you should probably take a shower to get all the bits out—“

“—with me,” Eggsy mumbled.

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Nothing.” Eggsy suddenly shuddered, whipped around, and hugged Harry tightly, careful of the scissors. “Nothing,” he repeated quietly.

Harry set down the scissors carefully and hugged back. “It’s what Dean said, isn’t it. About school. And the… other things.”

Eggsy did not answer. He towed Harry out of the bathroom and to Harry’s bed, where they sat side-by-side, arms around each other. Slowly, Eggsy began to shake.

“It _is_ what Dean said.”

Eggsy nodded, face pressed against Harry’s shoulder.

Harry wanted to go out and _kill_ Dean, watch him bleed, know he was in pain, know he wouldn’t last the night… But instead he told Eggsy the ultimatum his own parents had given.

Eggsy went very still.

“So… ah…”

Eggsy looked up very slowly, stared at him with wide eyes. “What’re you saying?” he asked softly.

“That… that… I would… we should… it’d be better if we…”

“You want to get me pregnant.”

“Well—“ When you put it like that… “Not really. Just—maybe—it would… it would solve both dilemmas.”

“No it wouldn’t.”

Harry felt himself begin to blush. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, letting go of Eggsy, turning his head away. “Forget I said anything.”

Eggsy stood, walked over to the lightswitch, and turned off the ceiling light. Then he turned off the lamp on Harry’s desk. Then he locked the door and wedged a chair under the handle. Finally, he turned around, walked to the center of the room, and began to unbutton his shirt.

Harry immediately stood. “No, Eggsy, wait, I—“ he stammered, not even sure why he was protesting, not really caring why. Eggsy shut him up by striding over, grabbing his ears, and pulling him down for a kiss.

It was a very nice kiss. Harry forgot to be ashamed or frightened. If Eggsy didn’t want to do this, why would he kiss Harry in quite this fashion? Why would he have his hands on Harry’s ass? Surely he must be rebelling against this idea somewhere deep inside, and yet…

It was… anticlimactic. There was no passionate fire that destroyed all thought; no magical knowing exactly what to touch and how to touch it. It was awkward and fumbling and very self-conscious on both ends, because Eggsy was trying to be as inviting as possible, and Harry was trying not to seem too dominating nor too standoffish. These attempts were slightly at odds, and hindered the horniness.

Finally, after ten whole minutes of nothing interesting happening besides lots of very passionate necking, Eggsy groaned in exasperation and demanded, “Are you gonna fuck me or not?”

“Well—yes,” Harry stammered, still a bit dazed by all of this. He was rather confused and trying not to show it. “I was—I was just—waiting.”

“For _what_?” Eggsy demanded, resisting the urge to throw up his hands. “Look, just—just get on with it!”

“I don’t know how.”

There was a tense, uncomfortable silence.

“…but you’re an alpha,” Eggsy pointed out. His voice almost squeaked. Almost. “Shouldn’t you just _know_?”

“Maybe, but I don’t.” Harry began to blush, and fought to keep misery out of his tone. “I’ve never actually had sex.”

“Well… I haven’t either.”

“Should… should we keep on?”

Eggsy thought about it for maybe half a second. “Yes.”

Harry gulped, nodded, and pulled down Eggsy’s pants with shaky hands.


	5. Chapter 5

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